


Champagne Supernova

by orphan_account



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M, also some shitty ballet comparisons, repost of old work, shitty astronomy metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23277697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I will buy a telescope for you.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo, branjie - Relationship
Kudos: 2





	Champagne Supernova

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! My name's Kat and I used to post fics on here and artificialqueens on tumblr. I stopped writing after I got my new job but now we're all stuck indoors, I found my old work and thought I'd repost it for anyone else as bored as I am.
> 
> Nice comments instantly make me fall in love with you xx

You remind me of the night.  
You sparkle like the brightest star of the most visible constellation, statuesque and radiating safety and warmth and calmness. You are all ten of the stars in the Pisces constellation, each representing your truest passions and morals. I think you deserve more than that. However, you are not Hydra. You are not the biggest and you are not the most powerful and I don’t want you to be- you also hate snakes, and I could never be harsh enough to compare you to the stars of the water snake. I like to compare you to Corona Borealis, though. Jewels from the crown of a princess, precious enough that they turned into stars when they were thrown into the sky.  
Maybe if I painstakingly remove the sparkles, peeled back the wonder web we stuck them onto your ball gowns with one evening, and wish them into the clouds, I wonder if your soul will inhibit those from an undiscovered section of the universe.  
I will buy a telescope for you. I’ll sit out on the balcony with hot chocolate and my longing heart and search the sky for you. You won’t be difficult to spot, for even on the ground you are powerful and glistening in your jewels, but still I will wait for you every night until I grow too old to remember the way your butterscotch lips felt on mine, soft and sweet and supple like syrup. I know you’d always be there, waiting for me too though.. The Dubhe of my Ursa Major, When you shine, everything around you shines a little brighter. But no-one will ever be brighter than you, for you are the Giselle of this ballet and the Clara of the next. Everything else is your support- we both know you couldn’t do it alone but we both know you are the starring role, the leading lady, the Rigel of the Orion. I’ll forever be your Prince Charming. Hell, I’ll be the musical producer, artistic director and the stage manager if it means making you happy.  
I worry sometimes, that one day you’ll lose your footing during a performance and the world will experience a solar eclipse. I don’t know how you would react, whether the lights would temporarily lapse before shining brighter than ever, or if it would be a blackout, as harsh and dark as it sounds. I can only pray it will not shatter the glowing bulbs flowing through your blood. I think there must be other people like you, who read their horoscope religiously and take their partners on stargazing dates with fluffy blankets and sleepy kisses but I do not want you to try and take that on as well. For you are the creator of my, our, universe but not everybody else’s. I already know you’ll disagree, stay up another hour to perfect your closing sequence to keep the sun shining, and that I’ll just sigh softly to myself as I know you can’t be changed. You would dance circles around the world to keep the sky gleaming and I know that it would make you happy. And I would be okay with that. For your happiness fills my soul with comets and shooting stars and nothing will ever bring a smile to my face more than your open-mouthed giggles and wonder-filled eyes. I think your eyes look like the moon (or perhaps they’ve just spent far too much time staring up at it with the same aura as a child hugging Mickey Mouse at Disneyland). They twinkle grey in the correct lighting, full of synonyms and feelings and emotions you’ll only spill after a couple vodkas and a cigarette. The smoke makes the stars die quicker- I would never tell you that, though, as you’ll soon restart their passion with another glimpse at them from the bedroom window at some stupid hour of the morning. I swear there’s magic in those eyes of yours but then again, you think there’s magic in everything and it must be rubbing off on me. You are an enchantress of the night in every definition, the queen of the stars (an All-Star if you must) and the ruler of the goddamn universe. You are too much and not enough but god I couldn’t ask for anything more, which is lucky really, for if I was to voice any concerns, I already know what you would say.  
‘It’s written in the stars, honey.’


End file.
